


Soldier's-Eye View

by telperion_15



Category: Primeval
Genre: Character Observation, Gen, Gossip, M/M, Soldiers, Team Dynamics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-09
Updated: 2012-02-09
Packaged: 2017-10-30 21:04:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/336104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/telperion_15/pseuds/telperion_15
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a hard day, Ryan and his fellow soldiers kick back and relax.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Soldier's-Eye View

**Author's Note:**

> A note about OCs:  
> Primeval fandom on LiveJournal has generated a number of fanon OCs, created by different authors and freely used by others, to the extent that some of them have now taken on lives of their own. The ones that appear in this fic, Jacobs, Anders, Davis and Bradshaw belong to me.

Ryan sank into the sofa cushions with a groan of appreciation, stretching his legs out to settle his heels on the coffee table in front of him. Around him, other people were making similar sounds of satisfaction as, for the first time in about ten hours, they were finally allowed to relax in a warm and dry environment.

The Peak District in cold and rainy February had definitely not been high on Ryan’s list of places to spend time. But when an anomaly called, you came running, British weather notwithstanding.

The only bright spot in his day was that nothing had tried to eat him. The latest crop of prehistoric visitors had comprised a flock (herd? pack?) of _Procompsognathus Triassicus_ – annoying little buggers, but essentially harmless. Although Cutter had warned that they could give you a nasty bite if you pissed them off – _after_ a couple of the lads had discovered that the hard way.

The difficultly had arisen when they’d tried to get the compys (an abbreviation of Connor’s that Ryan had gratefully seized on) to go back through the anomaly. Threatening shouts or gestures would only get you so far when you were trying to herd a group of creatures no higher than your knee, and that had the ability to slip through any gaps quicker than you could train a gun on them.

And just when they thought they’d managed to get all the little sods back to the Triassic, Connor had piped up and announced that two were missing. He’d counted twelve coming through the anomaly, and only ten had gone back.

Cue a long, wet, and exhausting search across the immediate countryside for the two AWOL critters. One had been found fairly quickly, lying at the bottom of a small ravine with its neck broken. Cutter had been delighted, in his own special scientist way, immediately claiming the body for later dissection.

But it had taken another four hours to find the last one. And even then it had been more by luck than judgement. Stephen had eventually spotted its eyes glowing in the light of the torches they were using to cut through the gathering winter darkness. And even in the falling dusk he had managed to shoot it, drugging it for just long enough to get it back to the anomaly. They all knew that finding it at all had been pure fluke – by that point Ryan himself had long since given up hope that they were going to track the creature down, and had resigned himself to having to leave a prehistoric chicken roaming free in twenty-first century Britain. No matter how much Cutter might have complained about that outcome.

It hadn’t helped that, the previous day, Lester had performed what Ryan considered to be a frankly miraculous one-eighty on the subject of leave for the military detachment assigned to the anomaly project. The lads had been muttering about time off for a while – even though they’d only been on the project for a few months, tempers and stamina were wearing down – and apparently Lester had got sick of all the memos on the subject and finally told them that all except five of them could take a week off, barring a T-Rex incursion.

Which had left Ryan with a rather small, and rather motley, crew of men made up of his and Jacobs’ units. Happily, no T-Rexes had appeared, but while the visit from the compys hadn’t required any excessive firepower, Ryan could have wished for a few more bodies to help with the herding and shooing – maybe that way he wouldn’t have had to stay out in the icy rain for so long.

Jacobs lowered himself on to the sofa next to Ryan with a soft exhalation of pleasure. With Ryan sticking around, the other captain could have taken the week off, but he wasn’t the sort of officer to kick back while other members of his unit were still on duty. So he had sent most of his lot off for some well-earned rest, keeping only Anders, his second-in-command, back to make up the numbers of the makeshift unit. From his own unit Ryan had selected Davis and Bradshaw to remain. Davis was something of a workaholic, and one of the only members of the military squad _not_ to have been hankering after some leave. And Bradshaw was the newest recruit to Ryan’s unit and the anomaly project, and as such was still going through that unfortunate period of hazing that required him to do a whole lot of hard work for not much reward. The process was good-natured, but every recruit to Special Forces had to put up with it – Ryan could still remember the crap he’d had to take when he joined up.

Still, right now Bradshaw didn’t look as if he could take any more crap even if it _was_ dealt out to him. The young soldier was flopped bonelessly in an armchair, with Davis sat in the one opposite him looking almost as wiped out. Briefly Ryan wondered if he hadn’t pushed them too hard, making them both stick around this week. But if not them, then who? Somebody had to remain on duty. They’d get their turn to relax next week.

The only soldier who hadn’t settled on a chair was Anders, who had apparently chosen warmth over comfort, and was sprawled on the floor near the roaring fire, as close to the flames as he could get. The guy was a tough bastard out in the field, but right now it seemed even he had reached his limit.

Ryan glanced across the room to where Cutter and his team had collapsed on to a second group of chairs, looking as tired as Ryan felt. It was a curious fact that the soldiers and civilians always seemed to separate when they were finally allowed the chance to relax – a natural division that had so far kept the two groups somewhat distant from each other when they weren’t working. It had nothing to do with any lack of respect or trust or friendliness. It was just one of those things.

Maybe they all just needed a bit more time to get to know each other. After all, they had been thrust into a truly bizarre situation with no preparation, and it was going to take them all a bit of time to adjust. Privately, Ryan thought there would never be enough time in the world to totally adjust to something like this, so the four months he had been assigned to the anomaly project weren’t even going to begin to cut it.

Jacobs raised his head slightly, his eyes following Ryan’s gaze towards Cutter and the others. “So, what do we think of that lot then?” he muttered quietly, although Ryan doubted the scientists would overhear him. The only one of them who still appeared to be more than fifty percent awake was Temple, who was rattling on enthusiastically about the compys, the occasional tired nod from Cutter his only encouragement. Abby Maitland had definitely fallen asleep, and Hart appeared to have gone the same way – although the slight smile hovering around his lips at Connor antics belied the image.

“Good enough bunch,” Ryan murmured back. “A bit crazy at times – but then, they’re scientists, so what do you expect?”

“I could do with a slightly less gung-ho attitude from the professor,” Anders commented from his position from the floor. “The guy needs to learn some basic safety techniques. Hart’s okay, though.”

“You’re only saying that because you’re worried he might give you a run for your money on the shooting range,” teased Jacobs. “Potential Olympic prospect, wasn’t he? Perhaps I could try and recruit him – I could do with a new sniper on the team.”

Anders scowled as a chorus of chuckles broke out, drawing Connor’s attention for a second before he went back to expounding on the compys’ proficiency at scavenging to survive.

“What about Cutter and Hart, though?” put in Davis. “They seem like they’re very close.” The tone of his voice left the others in no doubt that a euphemism was being employed, and Ryan traded an amused glance with Jacobs.

“Definitely something going on there,” Jacobs pronounced after a few seconds observation. He had noticed what Ryan had noticed – the way the two men were sat so close together, the sly poke Hart had given Cutter with his toe when the professor’s attention showed signs of drifting away from Connor’s monologue, followed by the annoyed grumble and swat Cutter had given his assistant in retaliation. It all spoke of the most intimate kind of familiarity, and as Ryan continued to watch he saw Cutter’s hand slide down to rest casually on Hart’s thigh. Theory proved.

Dragging his eyes away, Ryan’s gaze settled on Bradshaw for a second. The young soldier looked faintly bewildered by the turn the conversation had taken, and Ryan grinned at him.  Naïve the lad was not – you didn’t become a member of Her Majesty’s Special Forces by being sweet and innocent – but he had yet to discover that the dinosaurs weren’t necessarily the most interesting topic of conversation on offer.

A quiet fell, broken only by the rise and fall of Connor’s voice – the young man didn’t appear to have noticed yet that no one was listening to him.

“Doesn’t that guy ever shut up?” Anders muttered tiredly, and a little uncharitably.

“Oi! Leave him alone.”

Ryan raised an eyebrow. Anders had apparently touched a nerve – Bradshaw was looking rather indignant. Fellow-feeling, Ryan guessed. Both he and Temple were the youngest members of their respective teams – the ones who had to work the hardest to gain the respect and confidence of their colleagues.

Or perhaps it was something else…

“Got a soft spot for Mr. Temple have we, Bradshaw?” Davis teased gently, making Bradshaw flush a rather attractive shade of pink. Anders snorted quietly with laughter, the sound becoming more uncontrolled as Bradshaw struggled to maintain an innocent expression.

“Leave him alone, you two,” said Jacobs mildly.

“Yes, sir. Sorry, sir,” barked Anders, snapping off a mocking salute. His voice was loud enough to attract the notice of Connor again, and even Cutter and Hart seemed to rouse slightly, the former peering around rather sleepily, the latter fixing Ryan with a stare that made the soldier wonder uncomfortably if the man hadn’t heard everything they’d said, after all.

He grinned tentatively at Hart, who looked at him for another couple of seconds, and then winked before standing up and reaching out an arm to haul Cutter up after him. He nudged the professor in the direction of the stairs, winking at Ryan again before the pair of them disappeared towards the upper floors. Ryan caught Jacobs’ eye and they both smiled.

Temple appeared to have decided that the soldiers didn’t require his attention after all, and now that he didn’t have an audience for his ramblings, he seemed content to settle himself beside the sleeping Abby, watching her adoringly, and looking very much like he wanted to stroke her hair.

“Never going to happen,” muttered Anders, making Davis chuckle quietly and Bradshaw blush again.

“Oh, I don’t know,” responded Jacobs. “They are very good friends. It’s not such a leap from there. Sorry, Bradshaw,” he added as an afterthought.

“No apology needed, sir,” said Bradshaw, trying and completely failing to sound nonchalant. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going to turn in for the night.”

“Off you go, then,” said Ryan. “But don’t forget we still need to be up bright and early tomorrow to do a final sweep of the area before heading home.”

“Right you are, sir.”

As Bradshaw vanished up the stairs Anders smirked after him. “Wonder what he’s going to be doing before he goes to sleep,” he said, accompanying the words with a rude gesture.

There was a round of quiet laughter, interrupted by Claudia Brown entering the lounge from the hotel foyer, holding a mobile phone.

“Cutter? Cutter?”

Her words woke Abby, who grumbled and shoved rather ineffectively at Connor, trying to get him to move away slightly. Anders smirked again.

“You just missed him, I’m afraid,” Ryan said, addressing Claudia. “He and Hart went up to bed a few minutes ago.” And was it his imagination, or did she look vaguely dismayed by that piece of information?

“I’ve got Lester on the line,” she said, waving the phone. “He wants an update on the situation. I was hoping Cutter could confirm to him that we got all the creatures home.”

“We definitely did,” Connor piped up. “I counted them.”

Claudia didn’t look particularly convinced by this proclamation, and she sent an appealing look in Ryan’s direction.

Ryan nodded. “We got them all,” he confirmed.

Smiling at him in thanks, Claudia raised the phone to her ear. “Cutter’s not here, sir…no, he’s gone to bed…but Ryan and Connor have both confirmed a successful outcome…no, we’re going to stay here overnight, we’ll be back in the morning…”

Her voice faded as she returned to the foyer, and Ryan reflected that they had got pretty lucky when it came to Claudia Brown. Okay, so they still had to deal with Lester on occasion, but at least they had Claudia as a buffer. And a competent, efficient, unflappable buffer at that. She wasn’t the shrieking, screaming, crying type. Many women would have had a nervous breakdown after seeing some of the things she had seen.

His gaze drifted back to Abby Maitland, who was definitely looking more awake now, and none too happy about that fact. There was another capable woman. And you’d need to be, to put up with Temple sometimes. Connor was in full flow again, even though Abby clearly wasn’t listening to him. Ryan took pity and decided to put her out of her misery.

“Oi, you two. Get some sleep, yeah?  It’s been a long day.”

Abby shot him a grateful glance before leaping off the sofa with alacrity, Connor following her. The last words Ryan heard as they went upstairs sounded suspiciously like “shut up, Connor…”

“Well, I guess that’s our cue, then,” said Jacobs. “Not quite so interesting down here without people to gossip about.”

“Sir, I’m hurt!” protested Anders. “Are you saying we’re not good company?”

“Not sure if ‘good’ is the word I’d use,” said Davis, ducking when a cushion suddenly headed in his direction.

“Lads, lads!” When he had their full attention, Ryan continued. “Much as I hate to say it, I think Bradshaw and our pet scientists have got the right idea. I can hear my bed calling to me.” He levered himself off the sofa, hissing as his muscles protested. Jacobs, Davis, and Anders followed suit, the latter leaping to his feet with far too much energy, in Ryan’s opinion.

“See you in the morning, Ryan,” Jacobs said.

“See you in the morning,” Anders and Davis echoed.

"Yep. Night, lads."


End file.
